


we still have all our stories

by ohallows



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (also kobold abuse is briefly mentioned), Bittersweet, Closure, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Missing Scene, Platonic Soulmates, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: The letter sits on the desk, bland and unassuming. Terrifying, really, even though it’s nothing more than a sheet of paper. Zolf’s been staring at it for the past five minutes, trying to force himself to go over and pick it up and read it.
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Comments: 17
Kudos: 67





	we still have all our stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimabutch (CWoodP)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWoodP/gifts).



> charlie u asked for this and i know i said it would be on the backburner but i blacked out and woke up with this written. 
> 
> i do not cry writing my own fics. i’m too worried about the technical parts. that being said. i cried multiple times writing this. 
> 
> again [alex voice] ma-HOOOOOO-sive spoilers for 156 please be aware

The letter sits on the desk, bland and unassuming. Terrifying, really, even though it’s nothing more than a sheet of paper. Zolf’s been staring at it for the past five minutes, trying to force himself to go over and pick it up and read it. He hasn’t moved from the doorway, and he’s close enough that he can still hear Hamid crying in the hallway outside. 

He just feels… numb.  _ Hearing  _ from her again was never something he thought they’d get, never something he thought  _ he’d  _ get, because he’d mourned Sasha and Hamid and thought they were gone  _ forever.  _

He hadn’t been able to listen with Hamid and Azu. It’s - he hadn’t been lying to Azu, when he said he didn’t know if he could talk about her. There’s just… a block there. Anytime he thinks about her. There didn’t  _ used  _ to be, is the thing, but ever since Hamid came back and Sasha  _ didn’t,  _ ever since Zolf heard about what happened to her after he left, about how her and the other one - Grizzop - disappeared, there’s been this  _ ache  _ burning away in his chest, slowly consuming every part of him. 

He knows it’s guilt. Guilt and hurt, eating at every part of him until he can barely breathe, until he can barely see which way is which. And, gods, the worst part is that he thought he was past this? He  _ was  _ past this, honestly, but ever since Hamid came back, it’s been this… awful slow race toward what feels like the  _ end,  _ except he doesn’t know what the end  _ is  _ and he just… Everything feels so… fragile, suddenly. 

And, gods, it’s not  _ Hamid’s _ fault, it could never be, but Zolf is just -  _ everything  _ feels like it did before, spiraling slowly out of his control, and it’s just like back with Mr. Ceiling when Zolf woke up and felt  _ useless _ and couldn’t do  _ anything  _ and - 

It always comes down to this, in the end. The feeling of everything,  _ everyone _ slipping away from him, too far away for Zolf to  _ protect  _ them. Which is ridiculous, because they’re all cooped up in the inn for the time being. Not that that’s helped - he knows he flew off the handle at Hamid and Cel, knows that neither of them deserved it, but he’s holding everything together by a tenuous  _ thread  _ and he’d thought they damned  _ everyone  _ in Japan, thought that they’d damned the  _ world,  _ and he’d. Lost it, a bit. He knows he should apologise to Cel. Should apologise to Hamid, too, but anytime he sees Hamid being…  _ followed around  _ by the kobolds who had already been subjugated and  _ tortured _ for so long, he can’t think about anything else but his frustration. 

He knows he’s stalling, running through everything in his head. And he’s  _ still _ staring at the letter. It’s open, on the table, and the handwriting isn’t the same but it’s similar  _ enough _ that he recognises Sasha in the loops and scratches from the pen. 

Gods. Scared of a  _ letter.  _ What is he going to do when they come across an  _ actual  _ threat? Come up against an infected? 

“Get it  _ together,” _ he mutters, and shakes his head to clear it. 

It’s just - after Feryn, after…  _ everything _ , he’d been alone. The navy had been fine, until it hadn’t been. Until his ship had gone down in a storm and he’d trusted in a god that he’d never really believed in to save him from a fast, one-way trip to the astral plane. Hell, even the  _ pirates _ had been fine, immediately taking him under their collective wing, but none of them… none of them had really been  _ close  _ with him? Erika was the closest, but Zolf was still keeping his feelings locked up back then, still pushing anything and everything down and down and  _ down  _ until he didn’t have to think about it anymore. 

The pirates were  _ nice,  _ yeah, but until  _ Sasha…  _ he hadn’t found someone who felt like  _ family.  _ And, look, he doesn’t know if she felt the same, or if she even thought about him after he left, but he felt like that about her. Like she was family. He still remembers meeting her in that alley, how scared she’d looked, how clear it was that she was running away from something, and Zolf had decided then and there that he would be there for her. She’d been capable as all hell, too - he wasn’t worried about her taking care of herself in the slightest, but sometimes he wonders if this was how Feryn had felt when he’d looked at Zolf. Just. That little edge of protectiveness. 

Sasha… Sasha had been the best of them. Of  _ all _ of them. And she  _ deserves  _ to have her words heard. By Hamid, by Azu, by  _ Wilde… _ by him.

He goes over and grabs the letter, because maybe if he just  _ reads  _ it, gets it all out in one fell swoop, it’ll be like ripping off a plaster and he can just  _ deal with it  _ instead of sitting here and wondering what it says.

_ “Alright, mates.” _

Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ Zolf puts the letter down and sits heavily in the chair in front of the desk, running a hand shakily down the front of his face. He can’t do this. He - he thought he had mourned, thought he’d gotten  _ over  _ all this, all these… messy feelings that came whenever he’d thought about Sasha or Hamid during those 18 months. But they just come  _ rushing  _ back with a vengeance, the same way they did when Wilde told him that Hamid was out of Rome, the way they did when he saw Hamid for  _ himself  _ in that jail cell. 

Everything is… twisting and turning in his stomach, and he feels nauseous, but this letter is  _ proof _ that Sasha existed again, that she didn’t just  _ die  _ in the rescue attempt, that she had a  _ life,  _ that she…  _ was  _ someone. 

He takes a breath, and starts to read again. 

_ “Sorry about the… erroribus. It’s been so long that you all speak Latin in my dreams, but you know I wasn’t all that good in English to start.” _

_ I got no proof you made it back…but I believe you did. _

_ “I believe that you’re okay, somewhere. I am.” _

The tears don’t come slowly. They come in a rush, cascading down his face even as Zolf stares at the letter, stony look on his face. He wipes at his eyes and cheeks before the tears can splash down onto the paper. 

She was okay. In the end. It had - gods, for so  _ long  _ Zolf thought that Hamid and Sasha were just lost for good, just one more casualty in this war against the world. He’d  _ mourned  _ them, held a vigil for them in a way he hadn’t since his  _ brother.  _

Hope is… hard to have. Sometimes. It’s an active choice he has to make, every day, to  _ hope  _ that they’ll win, that things will be okay. Some days are darker than others, and the days after Wilde told him that Hamid and Sasha were lost were some of the darker ones.

He steels himself, hands shaking as he holds the letter, and continues. 

_ “We landed back in Rome right when it was falling apart. There was fights. Grizzop took a spear that was meant for me, and then he took more. I light candles for him at the temple every year. They tell me that he’s happy, somewhere on a celestial hunt, and I believe that too. After everything was destroyed by the dragons, I found a home and a friend. So much was ruined, and a lot of people was also lost, and so we took them in too. Some of them was so small that they didn’t have names or they couldn’t remember them, but they’ve grown up now.” _

She - she  _ protected  _ them. Saw people needing help. and protected them. And she  _ lived. _ Longer than she ever thought she would. 

He - gods. He looks around for the whiskey that Wilde had offered them when they’d first come into the room, but it’s not there. It’s not an issue - Zolf knows where Carter has hidden all the really good stuff in Wilde’s office, and he stands up, running a hand through his hair. He makes his way over to a small cupboard that’s gathering dust and twists one of the knobs in a complicated way. The side opens, a hidden latch that Zolf’s known about since Barnes told him about it, and he pulls out the strongest stuff he can find, deciding to forego a glass. He can apologise later. 

It takes him a moment to decide to go back to the desk and finish reading, but he knows that he owes it to Sasha, if nothing else. And he - it’s like a dam was opened, like all the feelings he locked up have nowhere to go now, and he just needs to. Finish reading, so he can  _ deal  _ with them in a way that isn’t just ignoring them. He goes back to the desk, and sits again, because he’s going to need it. There’s a moment where he almost runs, leaving half of it unread, but then he takes a drink to steady himself and picks up the letter. 

_ “Azu is my best locksmith. Grizzop turned out all calm and quiet, he loves plants and growing living things, a cleric of Opis. I hope other-Grizzop would be okay with that. Amidus used to help me out with the business side of our security work, but he’s busy with his own twins now. They’re exactly your height now, Hamid, and they call me ‘Ava.’ No one here could pronounce ‘Zolf,’ we ended up calling him ‘Sagax.’ He’s got excellent knife work when he’s not busy arguing. I think they’d get on.” _

The tears come a bit stronger, now. He can  _ hear  _ her in the letter, can hear the pride in her voice when she talks about all of them, the gentle teasing in her voice when she mentions that Sagax argues. 

She  _ named  _ one of them after him. He - he didn’t think she would - gods, he doesn’t even know if he  _ deserves  _ this, this memento, but just the thought that Sasha cared this much about him to give a kid his  _ name,  _ even after he left and abandoned her to her fate, it’s - he takes another drink. 

_ “And little Wilde has caused me so many headaches, you would not believe. Bertus teaches the kids acrobatics, now that I’m getting too stiff. I wish so much that you could meet them.” _

Gods. It’s not  _ fair,  _ that she’s gone. He misses her so  _ much,  _ like an ache in his chest that he’s never going to be able to really get rid of. It’s just… there,  _ forever,  _ a reminder of someone he never got enough time with. 

And, more than anything, he wishes he could meet them, too. Wishes she were still here, wishes there were some way they could get her back. But. She’s  _ happy.  _ She was  _ so  _ happy, he can read it in every word of the letter, and it just hits him even  _ harder  _ when he realises that, as much as he would bend the rules of the universe to get her back, he wouldn’t want to ruin that. Wouldn’t want to tear her away from the peace she built. And, gods, Sasha deserved that. Deserved a life  _ away _ from this, from Barrett, from all the terrible memories of her childhood, and if  _ this  _ is how she became free, then gods  _ damn  _ it, Zolf wouldn’t ruin that for all the money or power in the world. He’d fight for her to keep it, despite how much he wants to see her again. 

_ “Sometimes you can’t save the world, but you can save a person. I believe that I’ll see you again and get to tell you that. Light a candle for Grizzop for me. Thanks, mates. Whosaskingus, Sasha LOLOMG.” _

She chose her name. She  _ chose  _ her name, and it had nothing to do with Barrett or the Racketts or  _ anything,  _ she chose to be remembered by  _ all of them _ . 

Zolf’s so  _ proud _ of her. 

He wonders if Sasha knows that she saved him right back. Wonders if she knows just how  _ broken  _ he was at the beginning, how she helped pull him out of that darkness a little. She thinks that they all saved her, and they  _ did _ , but she saved all of them, too. Over and over again. He  _ hopes  _ she knows. 

He’ll see her again, if for nothing else than to tell her. To thank her, to  _ apologise,  _ to tell her how much she meant to him. Zolf doesn’t even know what he believes, anymore, but gods damn it all, he gets all his magic powers from  _ hope  _ now, he’ll will it into existence if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Gods. Sasha would tease him so much if she were here. He closes his eyes and can hear her, nudging his shoulder and saying something about how he can’t be a cleric of hope when he’s this gruff all the time. 

He can’t help it - he laughs. It’s quiet, and cracked, and his hands are shaking with the letter still in his grip, but it’s the first time he’s laughed in a long time.  _ Truly  _ laughed. 

He takes the letter and looks at the seal; it’s so similar to the ring he wears, nearly an identical copy, and he realises that the ring is just another piece of Sasha that he’s carried with him the whole time. 

It’s just - it’s a lot, is all, but Zolf can feel the ache in his chest… it doesn’t  _ lessen _ , not really, but it doesn’t feel as all-encompassing as it did, before reading the letter. He can  _ breathe  _ again, at least, and just - knowing she was okay, in the end? Helps, more than she would ever know. 

He tucks the letter into his coat pocket, the one that sits right over his heart. It’s not completely fair, he knows, because that letter wasn’t only for him, but he can ask Hamid and Azu and Wilde about it tomorrow. Maybe there’s a way they can create multiple copies, so that they all can carry around Sasha’s letter with them, if they want. 

When he finally leaves the room, he can feel how red his eyes are, can feel the tear tracks on his face, and he knows it’s obvious that he’s been crying. He doesn’t really care, is the thing, and he just feels  _ spent.  _ All… feelingsed out. Wilde doesn’t say anything when he walks by him, just gives him an understanding nod, and he can see Hamid and Azu hugging a ways down the hallway. Zolf doesn’t say anything, either, and heads up the stairs to his room, shutting the door gently behind him. He sets the letter down on his bedside table and runs a shaking hand down his face as he tries to steady himself. 

There’s a small shrine in the corner of his room; nothing special, not like the shrine downstairs, but he doesn’t need something special, not for this. It has a small, unlit candle in the center of the shrine, and Zolf walks over, Spark on the tip of his tongue. He kneels down in front of the shrine, bowing his head and closing his eyes. He hasn’t spoken with Poseidon in over a year, hasn’t cared to, and he doesn’t now, but he sends up a soft prayer anyway, to anyone who is up there listening. The room is quiet around him, a moment of peace, and then Zolf opens his eyes, breathing out shakily.

“This one’s for you, Sasha,” he says, voice thick with tears, and lights the candle. 

**Author's Note:**

> bro zolf leaving before the letter could be read BROKE me like. hey. hey he loved sasha so much i’m gonna have a fucking breakdown. platonic soulmates forever and ever im. [points] they were FAMILY  
> remember when sasha was all nervous about how open and empty the space around kew was and zolf gave her his coat to put over her head so that she would feel more comfortable? remember when zolf got arrested and sasha said food didn’t taste as good now that zolf was in prison? i cry EVERY DAY


End file.
